


intertwined

by 21tales



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/F, Fanfic for Fanart, Pre-marital Hand Holding, Sexual Tension, Wedding Dresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/21tales/pseuds/21tales
Summary: wearing wedding dresses together is not gay if you're doing it for a photoshoot.right?for haikyuu girls week 2020, day 1: fashionbased on fanart by @hamura_art on twitter !!
Relationships: Haiba Alisa/Kageyama Miwa
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32
Collections: Haikyuu Girls Week 2020





	intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> happy haikyuu girls week!! here's my contribution to the girls and gays along with [this fanart](https://twitter.com/hamura_art/status/1300506462381174786) by the amazing [hamura_art](https://twitter.com/hamura_art) ♡♡
> 
> enjoy reading!

It’s as though Kageyama Miwa’s hands have grazed the features of some celestial being and if she gets too close, she might get burned. As it is, her face has heated up to the point her co-worker has asked her if she had a fever. She takes great care with her movements, stroking the silver, smooth hair with the gentlest moves, and keeping her distance because  _ god forbid  _ something in this celestial being is tainted with her mortal hands.

Fortunately, the ‘celestial being’ is, in fact, also mortal and goes by the name of Haiba Alisa. Also fortunately, Miwa will  _ not  _ be burned if she gets too close because Alisa is human. Beautiful and breathtaking, but still human. Sadly, however, Miwa is a makeup artist and she is very well capable of tainting her work because of her incredibly scattered thoughts. Every time Alisa says something in her sweet, sugary voice, Miwa’s thoughts become a little more cluttered. 

“Don’t you think my hair needs a little trimming here, Miwa-san?” Alisa strokes a small strand of her hair, her brows pulled down in thought, her bottom lip slightly sticking out. 

“Uh.” Miwa tries not to stare too much. “Yes _ — _ no, I mean. We’re going to be tying it up anyway.” She manages to find her voice. “It won’t make much of a difference.” 

Alisa hums in response. “Ah.”

Reminder, Kageyama Miwa is a professional. 

“What?!”

Right now, it seems that none of Miwa’s concerns are too important because an intern at the back is panicking on the phone. The sight of the intern fidgeting with her pen isn’t very comforting. Murata-san, the director of the shoot stands beside the intern, her arms folded over her chest as she taps impatiently on her elbow. The intern takes too long on the phone, so Murata-san simply takes the phone from her.

“What is it?” she says into the phone, and then there’s a long, tension-filled silence in the room. Miwa steps back from the dressing table, a little worried because she has rarely seen the otherwise loud woman be this grave before a shoot. Alisa also leans back on her chair to get a good look. “Got it,” Murata says after a while, dejected, and hands the phone back to the intern.

“Was that the other model?” Miwa asks. Nothing else could’ve prompted this reaction. 

Murata nods and sighs. “Yeah. A relative of hers met with an accident. Says she can’t make it.”

That triggers a series of silent gasps and whispers in the dressing room. Okay, that does seem to be bad news.

“There’s no way she can make it?” asks the photographer. “Because if not, it’s going to be hard to hire a studio again…”

“That’s not the concern,” Murata cuts him off. “We’re working close to a deadline. Our client won’t have it. We needed the shoot done by today itself. And the model clearly said she won’t be able to make it.” She looks down at her watch and grunts. “This is a nightmare.”

Miwa instinctively turns to Alisa, who has her fingers pressed against her lips. Knowing Alisa, she must be more concerned about the other model’s relative at this moment, but she does have her schedule packed for this week, too. Miwa tightens her grip around the hairbrush she’s holding.

“Do we have alternatives?” Miwa asks.

Murata shakes. “We may be able to contact someone, but I don’t know if they’d make it in time. Plus, there’s the issue of fitting the dress according to the model.”

Murata’s intern is frantically scrolling through her tablet, searching for contacts, while the camera crew stands back in confused anticipation. Miwa isn’t very used to situations like this, despite having been part of a lot of photoshoots. She’s been one of Murata’s trusted artists for quite some time now. 

Her eyes travel to the dresses hanging by their side. The designs are a little too intimidating for her and feel foreign, but the two contrasting wedding gowns are elegant in their own right and it would suck to not see someone wear them today, despite them being a huge pain to take care of. 

The sophisticated frills and nets, the cascading satin, the tiered veils, the flowery head-piece and even with the lack of embroidery and jewel work, the simplicity itself was a work of art. When she’d seen them at first, she’d wondered if anyone would even get to wear something like this to their own wedding. For a moment, Miwa had even wondered if some strange work of fate would allow her to wear one of these gowns. They seemed to be her size as well...

Wait.

Murata is still searching through her contacts when Miwa steps away from the dressing table.

“I could do it,” she says. Her words ring through the room, silencing everyone. She can feel the tension pricking at the back of her neck as she feels every eye in the room staring at her. Alisa is now leaning back further into the chair, both her hands over her mouth. Well, it’s not like Miwa has said something out of the ordinary.

“Miwa?” Murata is as surprised as her co-workers, but Miwa can find a little hope reflected in her desperate eyes. 

“I’ve been part of photoshoots a couple times in college,” Miwa shrugs. “Besides, I think that dress would fit me, too. Right?”

Murata’s shoulders drop. “Well…” she scratches her head. She looks at Miwa, and then at the dress, and then at the details listed on her phone, and then back at Miwa. She contemplates Miwa long enough to make her feel at least a little uncomfortable. “You’re not wrong,” she finally says and Miwa lets out a sigh. 

Murata would have sounded a little more disappointed if she wasn’t running close to a deadline, but it’s as good as it can get. It’s good that years of working with Murata-san has led to some understanding, despite the director being one of the most difficult people to work with in the industry.

“Let’s get going then! Come on, now!” Murata claps her hands, walking back outside to the studio, the photographer hastily following her, and everyone is back to work. It’s at least comforting to know that Murata trusts her this much.

Miwa takes in a deep breath. She’s gotten herself into this and she has to pull through now. She does have a little experience in modelling for shoots, even though she’s rough around the edges. She’s sure the directors would help and it’s not like she’s ever been nervous in front of cameras. 

She doesn’t regret this decision. They have to make the best use of their time. Besides, this could be a good experience.  
  


* * *

  
  
This is not a good experience.

The dress weighs down mercilessly on Miwa’s shoulders, the makeup is heavier than she is used to, and the shoes are uncomfortably tight. The pressure she’s feeling is intense because she knows this is something she herself has chosen to do and she cannot mess up. Despite the workload essentially being doubled with Miwa stepping down, the other makeup artists do their best in whatever time they have. Miwa does help with her own makeup, but the process is significantly more hasty. 

She stands at the edge of the dark backdrop, trying to not let her nervousness trick her into tugging at the most expensive piece of clothing she’s ever worn. She just wants this to be over with now. Any longer under these bright, burning lights and Miwa would definitely pass out. On the other side of the studio are her coworkers, guiding someone out of the dressing room _ — _ Haiba Alisa.

For a moment, Miwa forgets the metaphorical weight of the world on her shoulders because Alisa, simply put, looks  _ stunning _ . The golden-white fabric hugs her upper body gently behind a layer of glimmering tulle. Her hair is pulled up into a half bun, paired with the flowery headpiece which supports the draped veil. The gown flows behind her as she walks, blending with every step she takes, as if the fabric was made for her. When Alisa picks a proper pace in the bulky dress, she looks up and her eyes meet Miwa’s, who has only just noticed her own parted, dry lips.

Alisa grins and waves at her, and Miwa laughs nervously in response. The clearly experienced model walks up to her, still smiling.

“You look amazing!” she chirps, pressing her fingers together, her emerald eyes filled with childish awe. She could jump with excitement if she could. Miwa would’ve responded with the usual word of gratitude, if she were actually listening to what Alisa said.

“You look...beautiful,” Miwa says, dazed.

Alisa pauses, perhaps taken aback by Miwa’s honest declaration. Though, she quickly recovers and her eyes light up again. She gains a little colour under the makeup and looks away. “Thank you.”

Alisa showing the mildest hint of being flustered is endearing to her. A part of Miwa is both relieved and disappointed that she didn’t get to work on Alisa’s look this time. 

“Are you nervous?” Alisa asks, taking her position beside Miwa. She smells of lavender, her usual scent.

Miwa nods. “A little.” She’s pulling at her sleeve now, too distraught to notice what she’s doing to the very expensive dress. “This seems...a lot even for me.”

“You’ll be okay!” Alisa assures. “If you’re too nervous, just look towards me!”

Miwa shrugs. “That’s the problem, Haiba-san. You’d make me nervous, too.”

Alisa giggles and Miwa can’t help but smile. 

“I guess we can both be a little nervous then.” Her voice is low and quieter than usual, almost lost in the murmurs of the people around her. Miwa is mildly surprised, but doesn’t say anything.

The lavender is comforting, she thinks. Alisa’s presence is also comforting, Alisa being so close is comforting—even if it does things to Miwa. She feels a little lighter, even under the lights and this beautiful, torturous gown.

They’re both guided to the centre of the studio and the shoot starts. It takes a couple of clicks and even more disappointed sighs from Murata-san to help Miwa get used to the atmosphere. She’s still very uncertain, but it takes a faint touch from Alisa on her elbow and a small grin to get Miwa to find her ground.

“You nervous?” Alisa asks with a knowing smile playing on her lips, the childish wonder never leaving her eyes. She’s holding out her hand.

Miwa huffs and straightens up, remembering what Alisa told her before the shoot.  _ Just look towards me. _ “Very,” she says, putting her hand in Alisa’s.

Flashing lights are overwhelming, yes. Murata-san’s piercing eyes are also overwhelming, yes. But right now, it seems that standing next to a beautiful woman when she’s also in a wedding dress is a lot more overwhelming. 

What could be more exciting than this?

Back to back, hands on waists, hands  _ around  _ waists; every pose possible and Miwa is antsy as hell but it’s fun. They’re close enough to have Alisa’s lavender scent dominate Miwa’s senses, and it’s proving incredibly hard to not get too close to her. It’s tempting, but being in wedding dresses doesn’t have to mean anything intimate. They’re this close for a photoshoot. Nothing more. This is work, that is all.

They’re made to stand side to side, their backs facing opposite directions. Alisa’s soft, warm hand is in Miwa’s and they’re holding each other’s gaze. They’ve been specifically asked not to smile for this last pose, so Miwa manages the most sincere look she can give to Alisa, who in turn watches her through the corner of her eye. For a moment _ — _ just a moment _ — _ Alisa’s hand rests a little firmer on Miwa’s and Miwa feels electricity in her body.

“Annnnd...that’s it! I think we’ve gotten enough.”

Kageyama Miwa snaps back to reality. Whatever atmosphere they created has dissolved with Murata-san’s words. Alisa’s hand slips away from hers and before Miwa could mourn its absence, Alisa rests it on Miwa’s shoulder.

“Good job,” she almost whispers, leaning at a distance closer than anything they’ve put between them today. 

“You too,” Miwa says and almost feels stupid after saying that to a professional. Alisa is already walking away, an assistant rushing to her with a bottle of water and a packet of tissues. Miwa’s throat is dry, and even her voice feels foreign to her. 

It was just a photoshoot, nothing more. Miwa cannot begin to understand what has left her so breathless.

  
  


* * *

  
  
Murata-san’s intern is focussed on her laptop, studying every detail on her screen for a long moment before resting back on her chair and biting her lower lip. Her concern seems to be visibly obvious because Murata-san’s voice pipes up from behind her, taking her by surprise.

“What is it?” her boss asks, her hands around a cup of coffee. “You’ve been sighing for a good couple of minutes now.”

“Oh! Ma’am! I mean.” The intern sits up straight, fixing her glasses. “I was just arranging yesterday’s pictures…” Her voice drifts away.

“Is something the matter?”

“No!” The intern nearly jumps. “No, nothing really but…” she turns to face the laptop again. Maybe her boss could give her a good idea.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you think…?” She turns the screen towards Murata-san, who leans in to get a better look. The intern scrolls through the shots. Hands in hands. Hands on waists. Hands around waists. Piercing glances at dangerous levels of closeness. “Don’t you think these pictures are a little too...charged?”

“Charged?”

“Like…” the intern is turning red. She lowers her voice. “Sexually?”

Murata-san contemplates her words. Silence surrounds them for a moment as she leans forward to get a good look at the screen and goes through the pics herself, eyeing them one by one. The intern watches her closely, trying to read whatever she’s thinking of, but her boss is somehow unfazed. After she’s had her look, Murata-san steps back and takes a sip of her coffee.

“I’m sure our client will have no complaints,” she declares finally. “They’ll find a way to work with this.”

“Ah,” the intern says. She looks back at the last shot. “Is that so.”

“Miwa, however,” Murata continues, “needs some figuring out to do.” 

She takes one last sip of her coffee and promptly takes her leave, leaving her confused, flushed intern behind in the office alone.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ONCE AGAIN: you can find out what the dresses look like [over here](https://twitter.com/hamura_art/status/1300506462381174786) :3
> 
> let us know your thoughts!!


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